


New York, New York

by RAllatrix



Category: Richard Armitage - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Good natured smut, RPF, no real plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-04
Updated: 2013-10-04
Packaged: 2017-12-28 10:51:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAllatrix/pseuds/RAllatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A NYC vacation results in a interesting celebrity encounter...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The trip had been such a great idea.  She and her best friend had decided over drinks one night that since they both worked hard,  they both deserved a break.  They had started planning a girls’ weekend to New York the next day.  Luxury midtown hotel, spa days, museums, shopping, and tonight, the theater.  Fate seemed to have played a hand too, as one of their favorite shows happened to be in its preview performances while they were in the city.  That was where she caught her first, in the flesh, look at HIM – Richard Armitage - her first ever celebrity obsession.  The possibility had crossed her mind while they planned the trip, since he was rumored to be living in New York, but she never thought that she would actually “bump” into him among the millions.

 Chatting with her friend in the crowded lobby during intermission, she’d been lightly jostled from behind as the crowd began to move back toward the theater when the lights signaled the end of the intermission.  She turned to acknowledge the deep, English accented, “Pardon me,” offered by the jostler.  Her eyes widened briefly in recognition before she smiled and shrugged replying, “What can you do?”  Richard Armitage smiled pleasantly back at her, raising his eyebrows a bit in agreement as he moved away, pulled along with the momentum of the crowd.  There it was, her five second brush with celebrity, she thought with a silent laugh.  The online fan reports were correct, he _was_ somehow even more delicious in person.  She congratulated herself for having formed and uttered a complete thought without collapsing into a heap and turned back to brief her friend as they made their way up to the “nosebleed” seats for the second half of the show.

 The following night they’d made reservations to see a cabaret show around the corner from their hotel in the Theater District.  They arrived a bit early in hopes of finding a decent table, and were talking over drinks when a group came past to take a nearby table.  She looked up in casual observation only to find her eyes ensnared by a familiar blue gaze.  Seriously, what were the odds?!  She gaped for a minute before forcing herself to smile politely at him and then turn and continue conversing with her friend.  She couldn’t help but notice that he and his companions seated themselves at the table just to her left.  When the revue began a few minutes later, she didn’t resist the urge to glance over at him periodically, observing him subtly before turning back to the stage or leaning to say something to her friend.  It was fine with her to only look.  She was determined to withstand the compulsion to interrupt his evening by introducing herself as a fan.  She had no idea that he was very aware of her “covert” observation.

 He recognized her immediately as the woman he’d bumped at the theater the previous evening.  Her soft dark eyes and dimpled white smile had made a memorable impression.  He’d also noted last night, the tell tale pause and widening of those lovely eyes as signs that she’d recognized him.  He’d seen the signals often enough to be fairly certain that she was a fan, and that at some point this evening, she would approach him.

 They were seated at adjacent tables and throughout the show, he could feel the warmth of her gaze moving over him, but if he glanced her way, she was watching the stage, or commenting quietly to her companion.  From the scattered bits of conversation that reached his ears, two things became clear:  neither woman was a native New Yorker and they were _not_ discussing him.  Interesting.  He found himself more actively trying to catch her watching him in the second part of the show, intrigued that he never could, even though he knew that she was.

 He was somewhat surprised, and truthfully, a bit disappointed that she didn’t approach him as soon as the revue ended.  Since it was the last show of the evening, there was no rush to move out, so people were ordering drinks and settling back to converse.  He had begun to feel a bit foolish for assuming that she was a fan, when the expected brush on his shoulder, followed by a soft, “Excuse me,” proved his suspicion correct.  Or so he thought.  As he turned, expecting her to stop and introduce herself, perhaps ask for a photo or an autograph, he froze, his mouth open on a reply to an introduction that never came.  He sat, a bit stunned, as he watched her slip past him without a backward glance and continue toward the restrooms.  She hadn’t been trying to catch his attention at all, simply excusing herself for accidentally brushing his shoulder as she moved between the two tables.

 He found himself oddly annoyed that she hadn’t stopped to talk to him, which in turn perplexed him.  He should be grateful that he was enjoying an uninterrupted night out.  His new found celebrity in the US in the past months meant that he was often approached by fans, and it could be tiresome at times.  New Yorkers tended to be fairly blasé about it – there were bigger celebrities than him around every corner.  But, she was surely not a New Yorker, and he was positive that he’d read the fan signs correctly.  He was suddenly perversely determined to prove his instincts correct and to hear her admit that she was a fan.  His tingling awareness of her lushly curved body and kissable mouth had nothing to do with it.  Nothing at all, he assured himself.

 He turned back to his companions and absently agreed to the proposal of another round of drinks while he mentally plotted his next move.  He glanced over at her friend and saw that she was deep in conversation with one of the revue performers.  _Perfect_.  He excused himself from the table and walked toward the dark hall that led to the restrooms to wait for her.  He didn’t have long to wait.

 She didn’t notice him standing there at first as her eyes adjusted from the bright lights of the bathroom to the shadowy corridor.  She walked slowly and stopped short with a soft gasp as he stepped out in front of her.  Not realizing his intention, she moved to step around him with a mumbled, “Excuse me.”  She looked up at him in surprise when he blocked her path and rumbled, “You’ve been watching me all night haven’t you?”  Her cheeks flushed and she slowly nodded.  “Are you a fan?” he continued, his smooth deep voice sending a tingle down her spine.  A quick, furtive smile quirked her full lips before she nodded again, looking away before she said in a suffocated voice, “I’m so sorry, it was really rude.  I’ll just go,” and tried to walk past him. He stepped in front of her again, this time crowding her into a doorway and blocking her exit with his tall, fit body.  “Don’t be sorry,” he purred near her ear, “I liked feeling your eyes on me,” he admitted.  He wastn’t touching her at all, but a shiver ran through her before her head snapped back to look at him.  She couldn’t miss the predatory glint that lit his arresting eyes.

 The corner of his mouth twitched in a familiar smirk as he watched the reactions to his comment flit across her face.  Before she could reply, he bent slightly and stole a kiss, his tongue making a quick pass over her lips before he lifted his head.  A seductive smile slowly curved his lips as he heard her stutter, “But I…you don’t….I’m…”  Her thoughts were written plainly across her face and her dark eyes reflected both confusion and desire.  He laughed softly and tapped his finger lightly on her lips saying, “You shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet love.”  His hand slid caressingly along her jaw to bring her mouth back to his in a scorching kiss.  He felt her hesitation melt away as she opened her mouth to accept the invitation of his tongue.  He wasn’t sure exactly when his intentions had changed from simply “outing” her as a fan, to _this_ , but as he felt her soft curves lean into him and her hand slide into his hair, he didn’t care.

 He slid his free arm around her waist and pulled her even closer, slanting his mouth across hers to deepen the kiss and groaning softly as she responded by sucking lightly on his invading tongue.  His hand moved to the small of her back, pressing her tightly to him and letting her feel his hardening response against her midriff.  A deep rumble came from his chest as she tilted her hips into him and sucked harder on his tongue.  They broke apart, both breathing heavily.  He rested his forehead against hers and murmured between breaths, “Not here.  Where are you staying?”  He held his breath as she thought for a long moment before finally responding with the name of a nearby hotel.  He nodded, tipping her chin up with one finger to look into her eyes and said, “I’ll be in the hotel bar in one hour if you’d like to continue what we just started…” he paused and then asked, “What’s your name love?”  She flushed anew then answered quietly, “Alyson.”  He smiled that slow, sexy smile again, stroking his thumb across her flushed cheek, “I hope to see you soon Alyson,” he purred and bent to brush his lips lightly across hers before he turned and walked slowly back to his table.

 She stood there for a minute, as if rooted in place, unable to believe what had just happened.  Richard Armitage had just propositioned her?  Her?  She had given him the name of her hotel?  Impossible!  She was sure that she would wake up any minute in her own bed at home.   Instead of returning directly to her table, she went back to the restroom to gather her scattered wits and assess her appearance.  Looking into the mirror, she saw all the signs, non-existent lipstick, a pink glow around her mouth from his stubble, unfocussed eyes and flushed cheeks– she looked like she’d just been making out.  _Incredible_.  This had not been on the itinerary!  When she returned to her table, he was gone. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A NYC vacation results in an unexpected celebrity encounter...

As she rode down in the elevator, Alyson could hardly believe what had happened in the past hour.  She had spent most of that time hashing the situation out with her friend, and they’d both come to the conclusion that things like this happened once in a lifetime, and she would always kick herself if she didn’t as least meet him.  What happened from there she was still debating.  She had apologized profusely to her friend for ditching her – she had just laughed and said that if their positions were reversed, she would have left already.  Friends like that were hard to come by. 

 She took a deep breath as she exited the elevator and began to make her way across the quiet lobby toward the bar.  She’d only gone about half the distance when a muscled arm shot out and pulled her into the shadows behind a square marble column.  She stiffened in alarm before a familiar deep voice rumbled in her ear, “I didn’t think you were going to come.”  He snaked an arm loosely around her waist and pulled her back against his hard chest.  She turned, inside his encircling arm, to look up into his smiling face and say, “We’re even then…I wasn’t sure you’d be here.”  She suddenly realized something, “Speaking of which, why are you _here_?  I thought we were meeting in the bar.” 

 “Spot of bad luck there, the bar is closed,” he said in response while his hand at her waist was gently caressing her hip.  She blinked up at him, momentarily at a loss.

 “Oh,” she said slowly, mentally scrambling for an alternative and coming up with nothing asked rather lamely, “What should we do?”  She blushed furiously as the obvious answer was reflected in the return of that slow, sensual smile to his lips.  “I don’t know Alyson, what do you think we should do?” he purred sinfully as he leaned in and placed a soft kiss next to her ear.  She felt her “what happens from there” decision making window closing rapidly.  Shivering as he continued kissing and nuzzling down her neck, she gave in to the moment.  She wasn’t a teenager, mistaking lust for love.  She was definitely attracted to him, and he, if his nuzzling mouth and roaming hands were any indication, was equally attracted to her.  When he moved his mouth up to kiss her lips, she twined her arms loosely around his neck and said, “I’d invite you to my room for a drink, but I have a roommate.”

 The corner of his mouth twitched and the hand at her hip moved to pull a keycard from his pocket and held it up.  With a sly smile he rumbled, “I don’t…..Fancy a nightcap?”  Taking in his naughty smirk and the mischievous sparkle in his eyes, she laughed lightly, “Awfully sure of yourself aren’t you?”  To her surprise, he blushed slightly before his hand returned to her back and pressed her closer so he could murmur in her ear, “Let’s just say ‘very hopeful’.”  He leaned back to gauge her response and smiled brilliantly when he felt her hand slip into his and she said, “A nightcap sounds great.  Lead the way.”  He wrapped his long fingers around her smaller hand and led her to the elevator.

 As the elevator doors closed, he pushed the button for floor 51 and pulled her into his arms, catching her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue gliding past her lips to tangle lusciously with hers as his hands traveled lightly over her from her shoulders, along the sides of her breasts, then coming to rest at her waist.  He groaned into her mouth when she stood on her toes, looping her arms around his neck and pressing her breasts against his chest.  One voluptuous kiss bled into the next as they discovered each other, their heads shifting back and forth until finally settling on a point that made them both sigh and lean closer together.   The spell of the kiss was broken a moment later when the elevator came to a stop on the 20th floor.  They broke apart and moved to stand at the back of the car as the doors opened and an elderly couple entered.

 Alyson was still trying to catch her breath when she felt a warm hand sneaking along her back.  She bit her lip to contain a soft moan when one finger of that hand slipped into the waistband of her jeans and stroked the bare skin at the small of her back before slowly creeping lower.  She looked quickly over at Richard, whose face was a polite mask, with the exception of a subtle twitch at the corner of this mouth.  That twitch settled into a smirk  when she gasped softly as he splayed his whole hand against her bare back.  The elevator came to a stop again, and when the doors had closed behind the elderly couple she turned her head toward him and said smiling, “Not quite the proper English gentleman everyone makes you out to be are you?”  He grinned unrepentantly at her and replied, “I told you not to believe everything you read.”  She reached behind her back and plucked his hand from the waistband of her jeans and replied with a mockingly serious nod, “Duly noted.”  He chuckled warmly and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  When the elevator stopped a moment later on the 51st floor, he led her down the hall and opened the door to usher her in the room.

 As she walked into the room, a suite actually, and looked around, the sensual haze that had been floating about her evaporated.  Soft music was playing from somewhere, there were flickering candles scattered about and he had moved past her to uncork a bottle of wine.  It was a scene of seduction and it felt just a bit too orchestrated for what she had thought was a more spontaneous event.

 He knew something was wrong as he turned to offer her a glass of wine.  Behind her deceptively doe like eyes, he could see her shrewdly assessing the scene, sharp intelligence hardening the warm brown orbs.  In that moment, it occurred to him that he may have overdone it.  When she spoke, acid dripping from every word, he was sure of it. “Very hopeful my eye, you thought I was a sure thing!”  She took a step toward him and poked him in the chest with one finger, “ _You_ shouldn’t believe everything _you_ read about American women.  I’ll bet you knew at the cabaret that the hotel bar would be closed – Jerk!”  She spun around and walked quickly to the door before turning back to say quietly, “You know, I had a pretty good idea of where this evening might end up but I at least thought that I had a choice.  Have a nice life.”  She didn’t see the mortified expression on his face as she moved to leave the room.  Her hand was poised on the doorknob when she heard him speak, “Alyson wait, let me explain…” 

It was the tone of his voice, more than the words that stopped her.  She turned slowly to look at him and was surprised by the honest regret she saw in his clear blue eyes.  She raised an eyebrow, silently inviting him to continue.  He swallowed visibly and said, “It’s not as bad as it looks, really…”  Her eyebrow shot higher in question, but he forged ahead, “I came straight here from the cabaret and found out that the bar would be closing before we’d arranged to meet, so I booked a room, bought a bottle of wine and set this up.”  He gestured to the room and acknowledged, “In hindsight, it was probably presumptuous of me.  You absolutely have a choice in how the evening ends up.”  He looked so genuinely chastened, that she felt herself softening especially when he finished, “I’m very sorry if I made you think for one second that you didn’t.  Can we start over?” 

He breathed a sigh of relief when she removed her hand from the doorknob and slowly nodded.  She walked toward him and he held out a glass to her asking softly, “Would you join me for a drink?”  She took the glass and moved to sit on the leather sofa.  He sat down next to her, cradling his own glass and asked, “So what brings you to New York?”  She smiled as she answered, “Is it that obvious that I’m from out of town?”  He chuckled and quirked an eyebrow, “Yes, it rather is, but not in a bad way.  Are you here on holiday?”  She took a sip of her wine, nodding, “Yes, my friend and I are on a “Sanity Retreat” to get away from real life for a while.”

“Ah yes, real life – it does have a way of wearing on one doesn’t it?  You already know what I do in real life, where does it take you?” he asked

“No where exotic – I’m a full time high school English teacher and a part time novelist…very part time,” she said shaking her head.

“A novelist – that’s exotic in its own way isn’t it?  What’s your novel about?”  he asked, realizing again the keen intelligence glowing in her soft brown eyes.  More than just a pretty face and luscious body here.  He was even more attracted to her now than he had been earlier.  For some reason, his question had brought an attractive blush to her cheeks.

She looked down, unable to hold his penetrating gaze as she answered, “It’s a contemporary romance with a lead character based on a certain actor.”  She was blushing in earnest now, embarrassed that she’d admitted it to him.  She was surprised when he laughed warmly and his mellifluous voice said, “Is that so?  I’m flattered…perhaps if you let me read it sometime, I could give you some insight into your lead character.”  Positive he was teasing, she looked up into his eyes and was astonished to see that he was looking at her with sincere interest.  She smiled and shrugged noncommittally.  She had half expected him to toss her out when she admitted that she had based the main character of her novel on him.  His seemingly genuine interest was a surprise, one of many this evening. 

Alyson felt herself relaxing as they talked, sharing impressions of the show they'd both seen the night before, laughing as she described the view from the "nosebleed section".  When he rose to reset the music, she took a sip of her wine and closed her eyes briefly, reflecting on the evening thus far and listening to the music as it started playing again.  When she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her holding out a hand.

 “Dance with me Alyson,” his deep voice caressed her ears.

 “I don’t really…um…I’m not much of a dancer,” she admitted haltingly.

 He took her hand and tugged her to her feet, his arm slipping around her waist as he purred, “It’s OK, just follow my lead.”  She raised her left hand to his shoulder and followed as he swayed slowly to the music.  She gradually relaxed as the song continued, raising no objection when his arm gently tightened at her waist, pulling her closer, her head coming to rest against his shoulder.  She breathed in the scent of him.  It was clean, with just the barest hint of subtle cologne.  He seemed of a similar mind when he whispered in her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “You smell incredible, like a summer rain.”  She sighed as the sensual spell between them simmered to life again.


	3. Chapter 3

When he pulled her gently to her feet and into his arms, her uncertainty was obvious in how stiffly she held herself.  As he led her into a slow, swaying rhythm to the music, he could feel her beginning to relax.  Her hand at his shoulder slipped to the nape of his neck when his arm pulled her closer.  He heard her sigh quietly as she laid her head against his shoulder.  Holding her close, he caught a hint of the light, clean fragrance that clung to her, like a summer rain he said.  She sighed again and leaned closer, her hand at his nape beginning to toy in his hair.  His immediate impulse was to pull her tightly to his body and pick up where they’d left off in the elevator, but he held off.  After his earlier overstep, he wanted to let her set the pace.  She gave every indication of wanting him as much as he did her, but he’d meant it when he told her that whatever happened between them was her choice.  He knew he shouldn’t have tried to be slick – he wasn’t very good at it.  Lost in thought and sensation, he didn’t noticed that the music  had stopped until he felt her hand leave his and wrap around his waist while the one at his neck was exerting light pressure, urging his head to her as she leaned up to kiss him.

Alyson moaned softly as their lips met and the kiss deepened, tongues sliding, then intertwining.  She wrapped both arms under his and around his shoulders, fitting her body to him and humming softly at the delicious feel of his hard chest against her breasts.  His arms tightened around her and she felt a rumble from his chest as she pulled her mouth from his and nuzzled into the tantalizing hollow at the base of his throat, her tongue dipping into it to taste his skin.  She lifted her eyes back to his as she heard his voice question in a gravelly murmur, “Are you sure Alyson?”

 Without hesitation she replied, “Yes, I’m sure.  I wanted this all along, I just didn’t…”

He lay a fingertip against her lips, “Shhh, I know,” and then ravaged her mouth with his teeth and tongue, while his hands slid over her lush bottom, fitting her to him, his body hard against her lower belly.  She moaned against his mouth and her hands coasted down his muscled back to untuck his shirt from his jeans.  They both stilled momentarily as her cool fingers explored the warm flesh of his back before slipping around to the front to tug his shirttails out and begin unbuttoning.  Richard groaned, slanting his mouth across hers in a feverish kiss, one hand clutching at her bottom while the other moved so she could push the shirt off his shoulder and down his arm.  Never breaking the kiss, he shrugged the rest of the way out of his shirt, letting it fall to the floor while he slowly backed her into the bedroom of the suite, unbuttoning her blouse along the way. 

Alyson started mildly when the back of her legs bumped against the bed and she registered their change of location.  She felt a moment of panic as his hands moved to push her blouse off.  Gripping his wrists she broke free of his lips and said urgently,

“Richard, wait…I…”  His hands stopped immediately and he looked down at her.  She gasped, frozen by the intensity of his lust darkened eyes as he rumbled in reply, 

“What?  What’s wrong?”, softly kissing the curve of her newly bared shoulder.

“I,…it’s just that,” she faltered then said in a rush of words, “I don’t have a Hollywood hard body!”

He breathed in relief and then chuckled softly, pulling the hands that still clutched his wrists to his lips and kissing each one before replying with a smile,

“Is that all?  Love, half of Hollywood doesn’t have a  ‘Hollywood Hard body.”  Besides, you’re soft everywhere a woman should be soft.”  Gently disengaging her grip on his wrists, he slowly pushed her blouse off, tossing it to a nearby chair, and gazed hungrily at what he’d uncovered.  Humming in appreciation, he pressed a wet kiss to the lush cleavage swelling above the black lace of her bra.  “Soft, beautiful,” he purred, his hands cupping the full globes from below, thumbs rubbing circles around her lace covered nipples.  Alyson moaned with pleasure, both at his obvious appreciation of her less than perfect body, and especially at the sensations he was arousing.  Newly confident, she fell easily back onto the bed at his gentle push and stretched as he removed her shoes and then eased off her jeans revealing sheer, lacy boy shorts that matched her bra.  She scooted back against the pillows as he dropped his jeans on the floor and crawled across the bed to her, dressed only in fitted black boxer briefs, drinking in the sight of her curvaceous form accentuated by black lace.

“Is all this for me?” he asked with an appreciative leer, one finger tracing the low waistband of her panties.  Watching an adorable blush stain her cheeks, he kissed his way up her midriff and grinned at her with a caressing question, “Now who’s rather sure of herself?”

She grinned back and replied, “Let’s just say I was ‘very hopeful’.”

His delicious laughter slid over her before he murmured in her ear, “Mustn’t let them go to waste then.”  Alyson arched her neck, shivering at his breathy voice and then again as he began to kiss and nibble down her neck, raising goose bumps in his path.  Her fingers sifted through the thick, short layers of his hair and she moaned softly as his warm hands kneaded her breasts gently, fingers plucking at the hardened nubs of her nipples through her bra.  Her back arched off the bed when his mouth replaced his hands, kissing the curves swelling out, and then wetting the lace as he tongued, nibbled and sucked.  Lost in sensation, a low buzzing sound filled her ears as she felt his hand begin to caress the curve of her belly.  She sighed with pleasure, holding his head to her breast lightly.  The buzzing continued in her ears until she slowly became aware of Richard’s voice, muffled against her breast.  Releasing his head she dazedly asked, “What?”

He replied, unmuffled now, “I said, ‘I think that’s your phone.”

She looked at him for a moment, not fully comprehending, before a look of acute horror crossed her expressive face.  His eyebrow quirked in amusement as she scrambled into motion and rolled, stretching out on her stomach to retrieve her phone from the pocket of her jeans.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!  I totally forgot…she’ll keep calling if I don’t answer,” she babbled in embarrassment.  “You know…strange city, stranger in a hotel…I told her to call me in an hour – just in case.”  She began to tap rapidly on the screen.

Behind her, Richard gave an understanding murmur, distracted by a flash of color on her back.  Sliding across the bed toward her, he reached out a hand and traced over the tattoo at the small of her back.   “What do we have here?” he asked, intrigued by the contrast of the school teacher and the hidden tattoo.  He ran one finger around a yin-yang symbol interlaced with two red Chinese characters, again raising gooseflesh on her skin.

Text sent, Alyson dropped the phone back onto her jeans and looked over her shoulder at him replying with a wry smile, “ _That_ , is a souvenir from a college year as an Eastern Philosophy major.” 

“Hmmm,” he replied, “I recognize the yin-yang.  What does the writing mean?” 

“They’re the symbols for Daoist wu-wei principle.  I changed majors, but the ideas stayed with me,” she said smiling and attempting to roll over.  A strong hand at her back kept her on her stomach while his deep voice rumbled behind her, “No, stay right there.”  She shivered as, just like that, she was tingling with sexual awareness again.

Shifting closer, he traced on finger along the strokes of the Chinese characters, following the lower one along her back to where it disappeared under the waistband of her panties.  He smiled to himself when she groaned softly in response, sitting back to admire the view of her rounded bottom, its heart shape accentuated by the cut of her sheer, lace edged boy shorts.  He leaned over to press a kiss on the bottom edge of each cheek where they peeked out from the lace, his stubble tickling her skin, his hands sliding smoothly up her thighs to her waistband. 

“These are very naughty knickers for a school teacher, Alyson,” he purred. 

She laughed shortly then groaned softly again, lifting her hips off the bed as his hands began to tug them off.  Tossing the panties to the chair where her blouse lay, he kissed her tattooed back, his tongue tracing the outline of the yin-yang, wetting her skin, then sending a shiver up her spine as he breathed against her,

“Sexy lingerie _and_ secret tattoos…I’m getting a whole new view of American teachers love.”

He continued kissing his way up her back, unhooking her bra along the way and then biting gently on her neck and pulling the clip from her dark hair before urging her quietly to roll over.  He paused, watching, as she tossed her bra on the chair with the rest of her clothes and stretched out on her back, tousling her sleek dark hair.  Her cheeks, then her breasts, flushed under his steady, appreciative gaze and she moaned as he straddled her hips and slid his bare chest across her breasts while nuzzling his face into her neck then nibbling at the lobe of her ear. 

Alyson was burning with lust by this point.  His slow, tantalizing discovery of her body was driving her insane.  It was his turn to gasp when she arched her hips, sliding her core against his groin, and pulling his face to hers for an urgent, tongue tangling kiss.  He groaned into her mouth and held her hips tight against him as he felt the wet heat of her seep through his cotton boxer briefs.  Their mouths still entwined, Alyson ran her hands down his back, savoring the firm smoothness of his flesh beneath her fingers as she slid her hands under his boxers to clasp the muscled curves of his ass.  When she began to tug at his pants, he angled his hips up to help her slide them down and then quickly kicked them off.  They both stopped to savor the feeling of his hard, hot flesh sliding against her wetness.  Alyson raised her hips to meet him as he slowly thrust against her, both of them groaning at the sensation, both of them wanting more. 

Alyson, her hands, clutching at his behind, urging him to go further, moaned in frustration as he abruptly dropped his head to her chest and growled, “Shit – I left the condoms in my jacket.”  Before he could move to get them, he felt Alyson shift beneath him as she reached under the pillow and asked, “Will these do?

When he saw the foil packets in her hand Richard laughed and asked wryly, “Where did you get those?”

A slow smile crossed her lips as she explained, “Drug store…I grabbed them from my jeans when my phone rang.”  She leaned up for another kiss and gently bit his lower lip as she arched against him again.  Closing her eyes at the delicious slide of his flesh against hers she gasped, “You can thank me later.  Right now…”  Her voiced trailed off as her free hand clutched at his hip to urge him against her.                                                            

Alyson smiled softly as he dropped a quick kiss on her lips and then on each nipple before sitting up on his knees and taking a packet from her with one hand while the other reached to stroke between her wet folds.  She watched as he held the packet in one hand, and ripped it open with the teeth, biting her lip as his other hand delved intently between her legs.  Arching against his hand as his circling thumb found the throbbing nub of her clit, she sat up slightly and said huskily,

 “Here, let me help.” She took the packet from him and reached out to stroke his cock, sliding it through her curled hand several times before holding it steady to sheath him in the condom.  He thrust gently into her hand when she slid closer to him and guided him to her opening.  He groaned, growing harder as she held him, one of his long fingers slipping inside her before he pulled it back and let her position him.  Taking her hips in his hands, he slid slowly inside her snug passage growling softly,

 ”God you feel good Alyson,” 

 When she lay back and responded by clenching her walls around him, urging him on, he pulled her closer to him, tilted her hips up and began to thrust into her, while his thumb continued to circle her clit, sending shards of pleasure shooting through her body.  Her hands clutching at his flexing thighs, she wrapped her legs around his waist and arched into him, meeting every thrust and creating incredible friction.  Alyson was nearing the peak when his hands slid under her bottom, and lifted, changing the angle between them to a perfect pitch.  The combination of the new position and his gentle flick on her clit made Alyson gasp sharply and sent her tumbling into a shivering climax.  As her channel pulsed around him, he pulled her even tighter to him and plunged into her clinging heat a final time.   His angled jaw clenching, the muscles in his neck flexing, dropped his head to her breast with rumbling growl as he came

They lay there panting with exertion for a moment before he rolled away to dispose of the condom then turned back to lay on his side next to her, one finger tracing idle circles on her abdomen.  He kissed her softly and said, smiling,

 “That was bloody fantastic!  Like I said, a whole new view of American teachers!”

 Alyson smiled widely and replied, “English actors aren’t so bad either,” then laughed as he placed a sloppy wet kiss on her still heaving chest.  He flopped on his back with an exaggerated sigh of contentment, one hand splayed across her soft belly.  The lay side by side in companionable quiet for sometime before Alyson turned to give him a sidelong glance asking innocently,

 “So….not gay then?”

 He choked back a laugh and replied with a slow smile, “Ah…no.  Why do you ask?”

 Alyson shrugged and said blandly, “Internet.”

 She squealed with laughter when he jumped over to straddle her hips and tickle her, growling with mock menace, “I thought I told you not to believe everything you read on the internet…” before his mouth met hers in a wet, laughing kiss.

 

**Epilogue**

 He had slept like a stone.  No great surprise there.  After a ticklish wrestling match that Alyson won when she climbed across his hips, riding him until they were both sweating and groaning, and then a soapy playful shower, they had both fallen on the bed, exhausted, some time after 3 am.  When he woke, the bedside clock side said 10 am.  Turning to reach for her, instead of finding Alyson, he found a note.  Frowning, he thought back, vaguely remembering her leaving the bed earlier, but thinking that she had come back.  He slid up against the pillows and opened her note.

 

_I have an early start today and avoid potentially awkward conversations whenever possible.  :)_

_FYI, you sleep like the dead!  Thanks for taking time for A. FANN – it was GREAT!_

_All the best,_

_Alyson Fann_

 

He folded the note smiling, then opened it again – Alyson Fann….A. Fann.  Clever.  He laughed to himself as he rolled out of bed to get dressed.

 When Alyson returned to the hotel later that afternoon, there was an envelope waiting at the desk for her.  Inside were two orchestra level tickets to the hottest show on Broadway and a note that read:

  **Alyson,**

**Have fun at the theater – no nosebleeds this time!  Next time you’re in New York, call me**

**– I’ll always make time for A. Fann!**

**RA**                                                                                           

At the bottom, under the initials was a phone number and email address.  She tucked the note in her bag with a secret smile.

  _ **One Month Later** :_

Just finishing the last in a series of, he couldn’t remember how many, interviews, he was silently thanking the powers that be that his time in the circus had not come up, when his phone chimed the signal for an incoming text.  While the magazine writer settled the check, he took a quick look.

 

            _Ever consider phone sex with A. Fann?_

 

He choked on the swallow of coffee in his mouth, waving off the concerned looks from the writer and the waiter as another text popped up.  This one with a photo attached.

 

          _Only imagine the benefits of SKYPE and FACETIME… I’m free for an hour…_

 

Opening the photo, he saw a close up shot of a shapely female leg with only the bottom edge of a familiar lace panty peeking out at the top of the frame.  He swallowed and licked his lips, making sure to save the incoming phone number.  This kind of “relationship” he definitely had time for.  Suddenly in a hurry to leave the restaurant, he stood to shake the writer’s hand saying as he turned toward the door,

“It was great to meet you.  I look forward to reading the piece, but if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get home and return a phone call!”


End file.
